Love is a religion, and its rituals cost more than those of other religions. It goes by quickly and, like a street urchin, it likes to mark its passage by a trail of devastation.

Political liberty, the peace of a nation, and science itself are gifts for which Fate demands a heavy tax in blood!

Misfortune makes of certain souls a vast desert through which rings the voice of God.

The fashions we call English in Paris are French in London, and vice versa. Franco-British hostility vanishes when it comes to questions of words and clothing. God save the King is a tune composed by Lully for a chorus in a play by Racine.

Woman has this in common with angels, that suffering beings belong especially to her.

Your modest savant smiles as he says to his admirers: What have I done? Nothing. Man does not invent a force, he directs it.

Evasion is unworthy of us, and is always the intimate of equivocation.